


Episode 1: Galaxy at Peace

by Honey_Baby_Bee



Series: The Will of the Force [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Genre: F/M, Family Relationships - Freeform, SW:TOR Spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-21
Updated: 2017-07-21
Packaged: 2018-12-05 02:14:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11568216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Honey_Baby_Bee/pseuds/Honey_Baby_Bee
Summary: The Galaxy is in the midst of a contentious peace since the Empire’s destruction of the Republic’s capital Coruscant and subsequent 'Treaty'. Both governments are seeking to find new heroes to win the war that’s on the horizon.





	Episode 1: Galaxy at Peace

~Korriban~

            Two Sith acolytes stare at each other silently as their shuttle rocks as it enters the atmosphere of Korriban, the home world of the Sith. The woman grins when the man looks away as their pilot’s voice comes over the intercom, “My lords, we’re making our final descend. We’ll be landing shortly at Overseer Tremel’s coordinates.” The man nods, “Very well. Be sure to alert Moff Taft that our trials have been accelerated.” Unknowing to them their pilot nods, “I’ll do so at once, my lord.” The woman shakes her head, “Do you like terrifying the men, brother?” Her brother smirks, “I do. One of the many qualities I share with father: The enjoyment of watching beings below us squirm.” She rolls her eyes, _I don’t know how anyone could enjoy that._ She breathes in a sigh of relief once she hears the shuttle land, “Come on, Ezra, let’s not keep Overseer Tremel waiting.” He glares at her as she exits, before grudgingly following his younger sister out, frowning as she lights up with a smile seeing their overseer.

            “Ah, there you are my dear Irene!” Tremel says with a smile seeing the young woman walk toward him, though the smile disappears when his grey eyes land on her twin brother, who dismisses the two guards escorting them, “Ezra, good to see you.” The young Sith scoffs, deciding not to respond to the ‘fool’ of a man. Irene frowns glancing over at her twin, nudging him with her shoulder, silently urging him to speak. His jaw tightens, only saying “Overseer.” She rolls her grey blue eyes, before slightly bowing her head, “Overseer Tremel, why the acceleration?” Tremel looks over at her with a smile “Baras, my dear, is a step closer to choosing his apprentice.” Irene frowns, “Who is it?” Her eyes widen as Tremel growls, “An impure rat by the name of Vemrin.” Ezra frowns, “He’s not Imperial?” Tremel shakes his head, “He is not. Does not a trace of Imperial or Sith blood in his veins.” Irene blinks, “Then we are here to…” Tremel smirks, “You are here to prove that Vermin isn’t worthy of being Baras’ apprentice. That both of you are.” Ezra smirks, “It will be done easily.” Tremel nods, “I know it will, but first we must get you both on equal footing with the impure rat. Your first task is to each get your war blades in the tomb of Ajunta Pall. Once that is complete you both will meet me in my chambers in the Academy. Understood?” Ezra smirks “Of course, Overseer” he states smugly, causing his sister to glare at him. She returns her attention to their overseer, smiling at him before leaving with a slight bow, her brother following without another word.

=-~-=-~-=

            At the same time, a second shuttle descends from a large triangular Star Destroyer, carrying just over half a dozen force-sensitives. Fear permeates the air in the tight confines of the shuttle, the only two not radiating it, is a Pureblood Sith who is glaring at the human slaves around him, and a young alien man; a Togruta to be exact. His dark blue eyes survey his companions as he sits in a distant corner, huddled in on himself, trying to look as harmless as possible. He shrinks further when the only woman in the group walks over to him. She glances at him in pity, “Hi there, May I sit here?” He lifts his red and white face slightly only to nod before returning to look at the floor of the shuttle. She gives him a small smile as she sits down, “I’m Kory. I was taken from Balmorra. You?” His white and blue Lekku and montrals quiver minutely, “Koldar’asha, taken from Ziost.” Kory grimaces, “Oh,” knowing that means the young man was born into slavery. Koldar’asha nods minutely as the shuttle begins deploying its landing gears, setting down on the landing platform next to the twins’ shuttle. Once the shuttle door opens, the slaves anxiously walk down the ramp toward ‘freedom.’ Koldar’asha is the third to leave the shuttle, trying to hide his anxiousness on seeing his new surroundings, frowning immediately seeing the sandy jagged orange terrain of Korriban.

            He sighs, already feeling the effects of the sand on his skin when he’s hit roughly by the Sith Pureblood, who’s heading to a proud gruff male Human. The Human man only bows his head slightly in greeting the young Sith, not even waiting for the others to join him before he walks into the shade given by the awning of the port, allowing the Sith to walk past him. “Ah, the last one to arrive is finally here,” the male Human sneeringly states as Koldar joins the group, “I hope you don’t think you’re special. It would be a shame if freedom went to your head, or you somehow got the idea you didn’t need to pass your trials to become Sith. I am Overseer Harkun, Lord Zash has tasked me with sorting through you refuse to find one worthy of being her apprentice, and I intend to do just that.” He smirks smugly enjoying the fear it generates in the slaves in front of him, all except one, the latecomer. “Now, the rest of you gutter trash already know your trial. Get going while I bring our latecomer up to speed.” The men immediately walk out as Kory walks up to him. “Watch your back, Koldar’asha. And don’t worry. It’ll be alright. He can’t kill us all.” Koldar’asha nods, Kory smiles before leaving as well. Once she is out of sight, Harkun walks slightly closer, his eyes scrutinizing wondering internally why he is so different than the others, “Now your first trial is to speak with an insane hermit by the name of Spindrall within the walls of the Tomb of Ajunta Pall. Once that is finished, you are to report to me in my office in the Academy. Don’t keep Spindrall waiting!” then with that he leaves. Koldar’asha frowns as it sounds like a simple task, no harder than the tasks he was assigned as a slave. But he shakes it off once he walks thru the building, only to freeze once he steps outside and realizes that this might not be that easy.

            Blocking the entrance to the Tomb of Ajunta Pall are nearly fifty worm-like creatures with horn-like legs and their circular mouths containing hundreds of teeth. A voice cuts off his horror, “They’re called k’lor’slugs,” calls a sweet feminine voice from behind him. Koldar’asha quickly turns, seeing the red headed twins slowing descending the ramp. “You’re lucky they haven’t smelled you yet, but maybe they know you are below their typical prey,” states Erza, glaring at the alien and his unfortunate, and now tainted, training blade. Irene frowns, glaring at her brother for his prejudice as she can feel the power raging from the young alien, “I’m Irene and this is my obnoxious twin brother, Ezra. You are?” Koldar glances at her brother before answering timidly, “Koldar’asha.” Irene smiles, “Pleased to meet you. Are you entering the tomb as well?” Koldar nods and Irene smiles brightly, “Excellent. There won’t be a k’lor’slug left standing!” punctuating the end with a leap to a group of k’log’slugs that had gotten to close for her comfort, grabbing her dual training sabers as she goes. Ezra rolls his eyes at his baby sister before joining in her assault on the deadly creatures.

~Hutta~

            On a very different shuttle bound for a dusty Hutt Cartel controlled planet are two distinctive women, both blending into their fellow passengers. The Zabrak woman naturally blends into the rowdy and aggressive crowd, her full body armor dented with use and she wears it like a second skin. Her u formation of horns sharpened to deadly points, giving away only for her black hair. She makes sure her dark grey eyes survey her surroundings in intervals, courtesy to her background. Forcing her red face and body not to react when a random passenger strays a little too close. Despite all her caution and alertness, she misses the only real threat, a young Human woman who should never be able to blend into a crowd. Her curly platinum blonde hair brightening the dim shuttle, as her ice blue eyes also survey her companions on this journey, making note of any weaknesses she can easily exploit if things go south. Both women’s caution is for naught as their shuttle safely lands in Jiguuna Hutta’s spaceport. The Zabrak is one of the first to exit, quickly being processed by the Weeguay ‘customs’ security agent, before walking confidently into the port itself, before finally walking way out of spaceport.

            She nearly instantly notices two Gamorrean guards ‘arresting’ an alien. After she passes them, she hears a blaster shot coming from behind her, then sees the alien try to escape in front of her. The Zabrak internally rolls her eyes, before raising her right arm that holds a variety of darts as she releases a stun dart causing the alien to fall as bolts of electricity surround his body. The Gamorreans rush passed her, grunting in thanks as they hoist their charge up and drag him away, and she just walks smugly away with a slight smirk towards the _Poison Pit Cantina_. She stops outside the doors only to check her datapad before entering the cantina with a nod. She passes the unruly patrons towards the rooms the grimy cantina offers heading to the only room that is oddly silent compared to the others. “We’re almost set up. See if you can’t get that security network running, Mako,” comes an older Human man’s voice. A young feminine voice answers as the Zabrak enters, “Sure thing, Braden. We’ll be—hey now…” The older man, Braden, turns faces the newcomer, a rare but small smile on his face “Hey, indeed—the main attraction is here. Team—this is the girl we’re pinning all our hopes on, Raizel Mateo,” ending his sentence with a handshake from the Zabrak, before continuing, “Best shot I’ve ever seen and nerves of steel. She’s Great Hunt material, all right. What do you say, Raizel? Ready to meet your team?”

            Raizel smiles internally, _My team… I like the sound of that_ , “Is that who they are.” Braden nods, “Let’s do things official like,” pausing slightly as he walks to the young woman’s side, placing a hand on her shoulder, “This is Mako, a little genius I picked up years ago on Nar Shaddaa. She provides intel and tech.” Mako smirks slightly, her hazel brown eyes observing the hunter, “Hope you’re as good as the old man says.” Raizel scoffs slightly, internally cursing the young cyborg as her mentor continues, “And the big bruiser is Jory. He handles the heavy lifting and provides security for our base of operations.” The Nikto nods, before speaking in his native language, “Greetings. I am at your disposal. Feel free to make us all incredibly wealthy and famous.” Raizel nods in greeting to both, “Nice to meet you both.,” trying not to glare at Mako. “All right enough introductions. Down to business. We’re here because the Great Hunt has been called. Little Mako is the most rabid fan of hunter history this side of Geonosis—and even she doesn’t know exactly what the Great Hunt entails.’ Mako scoffs, “I do know the names of every Great Hunt winner, though: Bloodworthy, the Defenestrator, Jewl’a Nightbringer….” Braden cuts her off from saying more, “Every bounty hunter who’s won a Great Hunt went on to massive glory and riches—which is why we’re here.” Raizel nods, before turning her attention to Mako as she speaks, “Here’s what I know so far. The Great Hunt has two groups: the Mandalorian elite and the freelance bounty hunters sponsored by influential crime lords. There’s no time to make you a Mandalorian. That means you need a sponsor.” Braden nods, “Nem’ro the Hutt runs this stinking little town. I’ve got just enough pull with that gangster to get you an introduction,” he puases as he turns to faces the cyborg, “Mako, scan for every bounty in the area. I want the nastiest, most brutal, untouchable scum you can find.” Mako nods, now facing the console in front of her, “I’m on it, Braden. One nasty character coming up...”

            “We need to get you situated as a big-time hunter,” Braden states after she’s finished, “at least as far as the locals know. Then we contact Nem’ro. Mako will plant rumors about your offworld exploits, but you have to take down someone impressive—and local—to add further proof.” Raizel nods, “You find a target and I’ll take it down hard.” Braden nods before turning to address the slicer, “How’s that scan coming, Mako?” Raizel chuckles internally as the young woman answers, “Found something. Check this out… Vexx” Corellian, champion quickdraw artist, wanted for robbing fifteen Imperial military pay stations.” Jory sits up, now seemingly paying attention, “Of all places to get credits, why would a sane being rob an Imperial pat station?” Braden nods, as both he and Raizel walk towards Mako, “Perfect. This Vexx is either a madman or a glory-hound—and he’s obviously dangerous.” Raizel nods in agreement as Mako speaks up, “Says here Vexx has a safe house in the bad part of town, right in the heart of the madness. That’ll be fun.” Braden grimaces turning to look at Raizel, “Nem’ro the Hutt’s enemy took over part of this town. It’s dangerous poking around in there, but it’s your best shot. Raid Vexx’s safe house and look for something that might help us track him down. But be ready for anything.” Raizel nods before heading out of the room with a slight smirk, “He’ll never know what hit him.”

=-~-=-~-=

            The young Human woman pauses slightly on the ramp, her eyes quickly surveying what she needs to do to blend in with the crowd, quickly walking in-between two alien men who look more likely to cause problems then her. The Weeguay nods her through, though his eyes follow her into the spaceport, and she’s glad she had the forethought to ‘hide’ her sniper rifle with her stealth generator. She pays extra attention to her surroundings, as she walks through the spaceport, instantly noticing two Gamorreans point in her direction. She discreetly glances behind her, seeing the Weequay and his Gamorrean counterpart behind her. Her mind screams, that she’s been caught as her hand aches to grab her blaster on her hip. But she minutely shakes her head, shaking away the rising panic as she continues, noticing someone nearby has collided with another, dropping their wares. She calmly walks toward them to begin ‘checking’ the wares, while subtly continuing to watch the guards, seeing that they are after the passenger that she made sure was behind her. Once in the clear, she casually continues walking, seemingly aloof but fully aware of everything until she reaches the _Poison Pit Cantina._ While inside, she slows, her mind taking note of each guard and camera as she walks deeper inside. She heads to a revelry room being recently vacated by two laughing men. Smiling to herself as she passes them, her eyes following them until they’re out of sight before entering the now empty room. In the quiet room, she hits a small button on the gauntlet of her left glove, triggering an ion charge to disrupt any recording devices before heading to the lone holoterminal that is showing a holo of a skimpy dressed female Twi’lek. She makes a disgusted face before kneeling down a placing another device on the main console of the terminal, causing a man to appear with his back pointed towards her. As she rises the man turns to address her, revealing an Imperial Intelligence officer, “Secure transmission established. Agent Ryker, this is Keeper. Prepare to receive your orders.” The young blonde nods, revealing her Imperial accent “I’m ready, sir. What’s my assignment?”

            “In short? Subversion. Despite your appearance, you are stealthy and efficient hence you were chosen for this operation because of your exemplary performance during training. Imperial Intelligence needs agents capable of working independently in the field. Now you apply your training to the real world. Nem’ro the Hutt and his organization run Jiguuna, and you’re in town to convince Nem’ro to supply the Empire.” Ryker nods, tilting her head slightly “What are we working from?” Keeper smirks minutely, “Jiguuna is an industrial town, and Nem’ro runs most of the industry. The Hutt plies weapons, drugs and raw materials—but not to us. We believe Nem’ro has been reluctant to lose Republic customers by publicly siding with the Empire. It’s time he overcame this reluctance.” Ryker nods, “I agree. What is our plan?” Keeper internally chuckles, “As that is all we know, we’re feeling ill informed. We need to know what Nem’ro and his advisors are thinking before we’re ready. I want you to obtain access to the Nem’ro clan’s inner circle. That’ll require a cover identity. One of our contacts—an alien named Jheeg—has prepared such a background for you and will provide the details.” Ryker nods, “How do I find him?” Keeper glances at something off screen, “Jheeg will be waiting for you at a safe house. Locate him, take what he offers, then report back to me.” Ryker nods, “Is he reliable?” Keeper nods, “Jheeg won’t betray us; whether he succeeds at his assignment tasks is another matter. I’d be more concerned with the rest of the populace,” ending with a pointed look. “Understood.” Keeper frowns, fighting the temptation to begin pacing, “Most of Jiguuna is caught in a turf war. Some of the gangs involved belong to the Hutts; others are independent. Your combat training should see you through, but expect brutality, and expect to be targeted. Jiguuna isn’t friendly to strangers. Now find Jheeg and report back to me. Keeper out.” Ryker shakes her head has she removes the object that connected her to Intelligence then once she’s out of the room triggering another button on her glove fixing the recording devices.

            She finds the safe house quickly causing the inhabitant to jump as she sneaks inside, but he recovers and begins, “You. You are here softly, from the empire. I am Jheeg. I am expecting you, I have your new identity.” Ryker frowns, glancing around as she crosses her arms, “I’m listening.” Her frown deepening as Jheeg continues, “You know the Red Blade? Small-time pirate. Rich. Mysterious. No one knows true species, gender, color. I planted rumors, made Nem’ro think the Red Blade is coming to visit—enjoy Hutt palace, do business. You will be the blade. No one will doubt you.” Ryker’s nose crinkles, “Sounds easy. But what’s the catch?” Jheeg swallows, “Yes. Catch is unfortunate. I will explain. Real Blade brings tribute to friends; bring presents, bribes. Real Blade is far away, now, exploring the Outer Rim; won’t cause trouble. Only one concern; I arranged tribute for Nem’ro, gifts imported from Empire, but there was—interference?—at spaceport.” Ryker says, “Someone liked it?” Jheeg nods, “Gang steals from docks. Dangerous men, unaware of us. Nem’ro’s tribute taken. But I saw everything—I observed well, yes? I have proposed solution: you quickly eliminate gang members. Only method to recover gifts, remove witnesses.” Ryker sighs, “I’ll handle it.” Jheeg breathes out, relieved, “Gangsters are nearby—why we meet here, yes? But advise discretion, caution. Targets are excellent shots. I will communicate plan to our handlers. Speak again once Nem’ro’s tribute has been recovered.” Ryker’s eyes narrow at him slightly before she leaves the safe house, her sniper rifle appearing on her back.

~Tython~

            On a third shuttle, this one bound for the green mountainous picturesque birth place of the Jedi Order, two Padawans stare the other one down. The likely winner, a muscle tall Human male with short light brown hair and his Padawan braid cascading down his shoulder as his hazel green eyes stare at his companion. The likely loser, a tall curvy Human female, her jet-black hair in an intricate bun, save for her own Padawan braid that disappears under her robes as her sparkling blue eyes crinkle in mirth when the male blinks at the sound of the shuttle landing. His face then forms into a frown as he hears her laughter filling their shuttle, and glares at her as they walk down the ramp. When he spots a familiar Knight in the distance, he points his head towards him looking at his companion. She nods, rolling her eyes when he walks by her, his dual training sabers on his back, as he purposely knocks into her. Fighting the temptation to use the Force in retaliation, she instead walks to the railing that allows one to enjoy the Tythonian landscape. The male Padawan glances back, fully expecting her retaliation, only to roll his eyes as he sees her smiling at their home. He shakes his head before running to join the Knight, who just dispersed the group of younglings he was briefing. The Knight grins at him, though he quickly glances at the other Padawan.

            “Welcome home, Warren. Everyone at the temple is looking forward to seeing you again. Your former Masters praise your combat skills. They say you’re becoming an expert duelist.” Warren glares at him, “It’s Butch now, Derrin. And it’s easy to excel when you’re trained by the best.” Derrin Weller shakes his head, motioning for Warren to follow him. As they begin passing other Jedi, Derrin continues, “The Jedi Council will assign you a new master to oversee your final trials. You’ll be tested in ways you can’t imagine. But when you leave Tython you’ll know what it means to be a Jedi Knight. More importantly, you’ll know yourself.” Butch nods as they enter the Knight’s office, “I’m eager to face these trials. Where do I start?” Derrin chuckles slightly, “There’s a speeder here that will take you,” frantic beeping interrupts him, “Hang on, getting an emergency signal…” as he takes on his holo.”—under attack, repeat under attack!” an appearing alien Padawan states as his image appears, “Flesh Raiders are invading the Padawan training grounds! They have blasters! Send help!” Both Jedi’s eyes widen as Derrin exclaims, “Flesh Raiders, armed with blasters? He must be mistaken.” Butch shrugs, “We can’t take that chance.” Derrin nods, “They’ve never come this close before….” Butch nods in agreement, as Derrin turns to alert the Temple and continues, “I’m sending every able-bodied Jedi down to the Padawan training grounds right away—especially you.” Butch rolls his eyes, “Just point the way, Derrin, I’ll handle the rest.” Derrin shakes his head, amused at his old friend, “Take the speeder outside to the training grounds. Push back the Flesh Raiders—and find out if they’re really using advanced weapons. Go I’ll catch up after I alert the Jedi Council. May the Force be with you.” Butch nods as he leaves hurriedly.

=-~-=-~-=

            The young female Padawan begins walking through the passage ways of Masters’ Retreat, after taking in the serenity of the ancestral home of the Jedi Order. Several Jedi that she passes, turn to stare at her as she goes, awed by the aura she possesses as one steps out to greet her. When the Padawan spots her greeter, she smiles and the Jedi Master chuckles, “Jacelyn, as bright as ever I see.” Jacelyn grins, “Master Syo, a pleasure as always. I didn’t think Council members greeted the most promising Padawans that are finishing their training.” Master Syo Bakarn shakes his head, placing a hand on her back as they walk toward one of the offices, “You know as well as I do, that you are not any newcomer. Besides I heard your shuttle arriving.” Jacelyn chuckles, “The chance to see where the first Jedi walked, train where they trained—it’s always an honor.” Syo chuckles once more, “Still so eager. You and your new Master should get along nicely. I’ve been hearing from your instructors once we were told you were coming. They were awed by the remarkable connection to the Force you’ve showed since we haven’t seen such raw power in decades,” he frowns when he enters the empty office, “I was… hoping your new Master would be here. Yuon left her dig site and is returning to Tython specifically to train you.” Jacelyn frowns slightly, “Master Yuon is an archaeologist now?” Syo chuckles, “In a way. As you become her Padawan, never forget your initial training, nor the Jedi Code.” Jacelyn chuckles, before citing, “’There is no emotion, there is peace. There is no ignorance, there is knowledge. There is no passion, there is serenity. There is no chaos, there is the harmony. There is no death, there is the Force.’” Syo nods slightly smiling, “Good. This is…” pausing as he sees Jacelyn smiling and looking behind her at the hurried Jedi Master “Yuon, I was beginning to worry.”

            “So, you’ve arrived safely, my Padawan,” Yuon Par states after a breath, “I’m sorry I can’t greet you properly, but we already have a crisis on our hands.” Jacelyn’s eyes widen as she quickly glances at Syo who looks alarmed as well, “I’m at your service, Master.” Yuon breathes in deeply, “Tython is a treasure trove of ancient Jedi relics. Recently, our researchers uncovered several ‘teaching holograms,’ but they’ve not been fully studied. These holograms may be records of the founders of the Jedi Order—they’re absolutely irreplaceable. But, a large group of Flesh Raiders has begun rampaging through that region. Those priceless holograms are in danger.” Jacelyn nods, “Is there a way to protect the holograms?” Yuon nods, “Someone must slip past the Flesh Raiders to uncover these holograms’ projectors. I intend this to be the first task of your training.” Syo’s eyes widen as he walks in front of Yuon, almost protectively protecting Jacelyn, “No. Yuon, you can’t risk a Padawan against Flesh Raiders, even for such important artifacts.” Yuon frowns, “A Padawan who was stronger in the Force at four years old, than I was at fifteen? Gifted students need greater challenges.” Jacelyn places a calming hand on Syo, and he sighs and steps a side, “So I must recover these holograms, and watch out for Flesh Raiders. Where do I begin?” Yuon smiles slightly, “The holograms are in the Gnarls. Be vigilant; that region has dangers of its own. If you encounter any difficulties,” she pauses as she hands a small disc to Jacelyn, “Contact me on this holocommunicator. When you have the holograms, meet me at the Jedi Temple. We have much to discuss,” before turning and walking away. Syo glances at Jacelyn as his holo chimes with the frantic warning, causing Syo to frown and Jacelyn to grimace. “At least the Flesh Raiders are prepared,” Jacelyn says trying to lighten up the mood. Syo’s frown deepens, “Those Padawans are depending on you, Jacelyn.” Jace nods, “I know. But there will be others there to protect them, the holos have no one.” Syo sighs, “May the Force be with you.” Jace glances at him and nods, “And with you, Master. Don’t worry. I’ll be safe.”

~Ord Mantell~

            In the Mid Rim, two ships blast their way onto the war-torn planet of Ord Mantell. The first ship, a Republic military transport shuttle, shoots down any incoming Separatist fighters as it barrels towards the planet’s atmosphere and lands safely in front of a waiting APC that’ll take the incoming troops to Fort Garnik. An onlooker, Lieutenant Bex ‘Gearbox’ Kolos, waits impatiently for his new squad member to disembark, staring at each soldier that begins walking down the ramp. He groans as he sees more and more scrawny, unarmored cadets walk past, almost beginning to question his CO’s choice in a recruit until one sticks out, a stunning young woman in white and orange tactical gear. that defines her as Havoc’s new member. Gearbox somewhat smirks as the sergeant walks up to him and salutes, which he returns before they both enter the APC. They are silent as the walker begins to start moving, both silently evaluating the other. The sergeant, Gearbox muses, seems like the ideal wife for any man to settle down with, dirty blonde hair up in a in standard regulation bun, her face lightly defined with makeup and her green eyes raking in her surroundings, as bland as they are, as she sits at ease in full armor, like it’s a second skin. And suddenly Gearbox can’t take the silence, as if the kid can read his mind “Ah, there’s not a feeling in the galaxy like riding in a hundred-ton walker right through the middle of a combat zone, huh, kid?”

            The sergeant, Olivia ‘Meteor’ Chase, frowns slightly Gearbox’s use of ‘kid’ but shrugs it off as the APC driver begins talking over the comm, “Approaching Drelliad village, sir. Scopes show small-arms fire and enemy movement in all quarters. Separatists are definitely moving on the objectives.” Gearbox looks up at it before continuing, “Another beautiful day on Ord Mantell! You excited, kid? Nervous? You know, you’re the first new entry to Havoc Squad in some time.” Olivia shrugs, a smile gracing her face, “I’m ready to do my part, sir.” Gearbox frowns slightly, “No need to call me ‘sir.’ We’re in the field—you can lose the formality. To you and everyone else in Havoc, I’m Gearbox. We’re a tight unit—you’ll like it with us. You read the briefing?” Olivia nods, glancing at him thru the corner of her eye “Yes, I did, on the ride here actually. I was having a hard time wrapping my brain around how separatists were able to nag a Republic orbital bomb but now seeing what they can do, I understand.” Gearbox nods, “Good thing we’re here to take it back. There’s no telling where they’ve hidden the thing. They have popular support and hideouts everywhere. So, finding it won’t be easy.” Olivia chuckles, smiling once more, “I wasn’t expecting it too, or they would’ve sent the best.” Gearbox laughs, “True enough. You’ll get a better briefing once we reach Fort Garnik. For now, just sit back and—” his sentence is cut off by an explosion in the front of the APC, that rocks the entire walker.

            “Code Red! Code Red!” comes the driver’s voice over the comm once again, “We’ve been hit by a AP missile! A shoulder launcher from somewhere in the village! Everyone hold on—” a second explosion cuts him off as well, then a third as the comm stays eerily silent. “Driver! Driver?” Gearbox yells as Olivia looks around for any injuries on the other soldiers, “Blast it, he’s down. Backwater separatists aren’t supposed to have armor-piercing missiles! They’ll tear up every convoy that passes through here!” Olivia nods, relived that they haven’t suffered any other losses, “How are we proceeding, Gearbox?” He smirks slightly, pleased the kid isn’t being so formal now even given the circumstances, as they both walk toward the door of the APC “Fixing thing is my specialty, kid—I’m nowhere near the fighter you are. I’ll stay here and get this walker moving again. You’ll disable the separatists’ missile launchers. Understood?” Olivia nods, “Understood.” Gearbox nods, pressing the button that activates the door, “Separatists will probably have their missile launchers piled together in a cache somewhere in the village—and you can bet that cache will be heavily guarded. Find the cache, disable the missile launches, and then double-time it back here. Got it, Sergeant Chase?” Olivia nods as the door opens, “I’m on it.” Gearbox looks over at her, “Good luck out there, kid,” then walks back into the APC to begin working. Olivia sighs as she takes in the desolation that Ord Mantell has become, then begins walking down the ramp and heading down the hill towards the village.

=-~-=-~-=

            Most of the incoming fire from the planet surface seems to focus on the second ship, a Corellian XS Stock Light Freighter, that narrowly avoids very one as it heads to a Mantellian warehouse located in Drelliad village. The pilot, the only one aboard, smirks as the landing pad comes into view, enjoying the thrill. Confidently, they land without slowing the craft down, safely, the ship not even rocking as it sets down much to the amazement of the two onlookers. One of them, a Human young man with a tribal tattoo on his face, slicked brownish black hair and piercing blue eyes, lets out a whistle of approval as the daring pilot begins walking down the ship’s newly extended ramp. The pilot, a muscular Human man with short medium brown hair and green eyes, smirks at him seeing he’s leaning on a nearby pile of crates as he says, “Can’t believe you made it through that separatist shooting gallery, Captain. Your ship isn’t even scratched.” He chuckles as he stops in front of him, crossing his arms, “Skavak, right?” The man nods, “I am. If you remember, I’m the one picking up those blasters in your cargo hold.” He rolls his eyes as they walk inside the warehouse, “I’m aware, Skavak. Can we just hurry?” frowning slightly at how his sister will react to hearing about this. Skavak chuckles, “We’ll be quick. This village used to be safe, but now the separatists are taking over.”

            “Who are these people? What are they after?” the Captain asks, wondering just what he’s gotten himself involved in, as Skavak hands him the credits. “Just a bunch of people wanting Mantell to leave the Republic.” Suddenly a man, the second onlooker, comes running through the door, “Ah, there you are Corso. The Captain and I were starting to worry,” Skavak says chuckling at the young man. “Sorry Skavak, but I just saw the Seps blow up a Walker, carrying Republic troops,” Corso says trying to catch his breathe. “While then, that’s my cue to leave,” the Captain states simply, “if you’ll kindly and quickly unload my ship. By the way, I didn’t catch your name?” facing the newcomer. “Oh, um Corso Riggs, sir,” he replies with his southern drawl, “And there might be a problem with leaving, they’ve also taken over three anti-air towers.”

            Skavak’s eyes widen, looking troubled and almost yells, “Why didn’t you start with that?!” then shakes his head “Well, Captain looks like you’ll have to destroy those towers.” He sighs, “Know of a fast way?” Skavak smirks “Yeah, shoot them. I have no clue where they are though. Do you, Corso?” Both turn to look at the silent young man in question, who’s staring at the Captain’s ship. Skavak glares at him and slaps the back of his head, forcing the young man back to reality “Oh um yeah, just here in Drelliad Village.” He sighs turning and walking away, silently mumbling to himself on what he knows his sister will say, as Corso yells, “Good luck, Captain.” He frowns when he steps outside as his eyes see the wrecked APC Corso was talking about. He groans to himself when he spots a familiar feminine figure walking down the hill towards him, willing himself to blend in to his surroundings and her to stay unaware of him. However, fate or the Force is not on his side as Olivia sees a fellow Sergeant from the APC motioning her over. Olivia gets to her fellow sergeant just has the stranded starship captain begins to walk by. She immediately frowns and grabs his arm before he can get away, as her fellow sergeant begins speaking, “Sergeant Blyes, sir! The separatists inside are jamming our communications, and we’re in need of reinforcements.” Olivia frowns at sir, but answers him respectively, “I’m heading in there so I’ll destroy those towers for you. Protect this location, Sergeant!” Blyes nods, “I’ll do what I can, sir!” then runs off. The young woman then turns to the captain, “Is there a reason you are here, Tate?” The taller man frowns, trying to glare down at the shorter woman holding him ‘hostage’, “That’s none of your business.” Her eyes narrow, as she points to the Havoc patch on her armor, to his apparel to their surroundings, “I’m military, you’re civilian. This is a warzone. So, you being here, makes it my business,” then the reason hits her, “You’re smuggling again, aren’t you?” Tate frowns, before shaking his head, but it’s too late she knows. “I want you off world ASAP, Tate!” Her older brother sighs, “I will, sis. But I’m stranded until,” pausing to point at the village, “I remove the anti-air cannons in there. And don’t worry I won’t stay in your hair for long, miss uptight.”


End file.
